


Homecoming

by Aliit_Netra



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Corellia, Green Jedi, Retaking Corellia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliit_Netra/pseuds/Aliit_Netra
Summary: Tiran Wessiri, former Padawan of the third Barsen'thor of the Jedi Order returns home to Corellia in its hour of need. With an Imperial victory holding the potential for a collapse of the Republic itself, the Green Jedi and their allies must battle to overcome this threat, and retake their home.





	Homecoming

It was a long established tradition, something that Tiran had shared with his Master, to ensure that he was always on the bridge of whatever starship he was traveling on - provided the captain permitted it, of course - when the ship dropped out of hyperspace with a view of Corellia. Today, he wished that he hadn't. The savagery of the Imperial attack on Coronet City was visible even from orbit, scars pouring ceaseless smoke, fires burning throughout the formerly Republic controlled capital.    
  
The recently promoted Knight knew that his Master, the Barsen'thor of the Jedi order, was on the planet, along with numerous others, but given the state of the Imperial advance, Tiran did not know how his presence would help stem the tide. But he was Corellian, and he would give every drop of his blood to liberate his home. Despite knowing that it would only get worse when he could see it from the ground, Tiran Wessiri watched it all as they approached. He let the tears stream down his cheeks as he took in the devastation until a gentle, familiar arm wrapped itself around his waist.    
  
"We'll take it back," she murmured, "It's not as if you haven't helped do the impossible before." She handed him a piece of cloth, a smirk playing about her lips. "The others are waiting. Probably best if they don't see you like this, y'know, being human..."   
  
The Shadow breathed a chuckle as he wiped his face. "Thank you, Jenisa," he whispered, as Captain Narek's voice came over the intercom.    
  
"Sixty seconds until we hit the blind. Brace yourselves." Sivar Narek - a military intelligence operative working primarily in Hutt and Imperial space under the guise of being a smuggler - was sat behind them in the pilot's chair, his breath mask not enough to hide the grim set to his features.    
  
With bold purpose, he strode past the smuggler's crew, clapping his own squad's sergeant on one heavily armored shoulder as he passed, heading for the holoterminal as flames engulfed the ship. "We'll run the Imps out of town, Partac. Corellia is my home, after all. Let me know when we're in the clear." Sivar had flown the ship into enough hot zones not to descend straightforwardly so that they'd not be an easy target for the gunners on the ground, but the air battle made things tougher when the pilot was relying on visuals alone. Fortunately, he worked with Jedi frequently enough that having one as his copilot didn't unnerve him, at least until the young Knight was guiding him with her eyes closed.    
  
"We're clear!" The call came, and as the ship's comm reinitialized, an overwhelming number of distress calls hit, military and civilian alike. Punching in his Master's frequency, concern filled his features as Jakar Forseti materialized in miniature, his lightsaber blazing as he ducked behind cover.    
  
"I have reinforcements for you, Master. What's your position?" Tiran opened, getting straight to business.    
  
"We're pinned in Sector Twelve. The Imps are doing their damnedest to get my LT out of his escape pod, but it looks like it's jammed. We're making progress, but it's slow going."   
  
The Barsen'thor's image changed to a holo-map as Wessiri tried to figure out the best place to land, but he couldn't find anywhere close enough. He spoke as his master's visage reappeared. "We'll find a way. See you shortly, Master. _Mahn uhl Fharth bey ihn valle._ " The image flickered out, and the Green Jedi sprinted for the bridge.    
  
"Here." He pointed at a rooftop that was only a block away from Sector Twelve. "It's a hot zone, but you don't need to land. Nalia and I will go in, and the troops can follow as soon as they're able. There's a CorSec transmitter on the roof, so it's possible we'll find reinforcements inside."   
  
The pilot didn't even look away from the ship's threat displays as he pulled them through a maneuver that made Tiran rather glad for the ship's dampeners. "Better not get my ship shot up, Jedi." He chuckled through his mask. "Get ready; the ramp will be down for just a few seconds." Fire spat from the ship's cannons, shredding a pair of Imperial interceptors as they tried to knock out the vessel's shields. An XS-class stock freighter was remarkably nimble in its stock configuration, but insertions like this were nothing new to the Captain, everything in his ship was military grade, and not all of it legal. The forces he inserted into hostile terrain were experts on the ground, but in the air, their lives were in his hands.    
  
Tiran passed the armory, finding Partac in there with a pair of heavy packs. "You read my mind."    
  
"As long as you're sure you can manage them," he nodded. "Probably pull some Force trick to make 'em lighter, right?"    
  
"Something like that," Tiran smirked. "Don't take too long catching us up, Sarge. Only so many Imperials to go around."    
  
"Count on it." The laugh that escaped Partac's lips held no joy, though the commando and Jedi were very much on the same page. Tiran was fighting for his home, and while he wouldn't renege on his Jedi principles to win, anyone who got in his way was going to understand precisely what that meant. He handed a pack to Jenisa, helping her lock it tightly to her back, as she did the same for him.    
  
"Ready?" He whispered as they headed for the ramp, to which she nodded, kissing him on the cheek as they watched for their drop point. "For luck." She smirked.    
  
"DeeZee is hot! We can't do much about it without demolishing chunks of the roof, Jedi! Be careful!"    
  
"Incoming!" Came a roar over the intercom, as Tiran sprinted for the ramp.    
  
"Take her up, Captain!" The Jedi barely sounded out of breath as his feet found the open air, despite the equipment-laden pack he wore. They tumbled in the freighter's backwash before using the Force to correct their orientation. Icy blue lightsaber blades flared into life, weaving a defensive pattern as the pair hurtled towards the rooftop, the Imperials scattering and falling as their blaster rounds found their way back to their source.    
  
"The tower!" Jenisa called over the sound of rushing wind. Diverting their approach angle to meet the wall of the elevator tower, the Jedi found solid ground before they landed, albeit at ninety degrees to the roof itself. In well-practiced sync, Tiran sprinted a few paces before leaping ahead of Jenisa, saberstaff weaving in rapid arcs to keep any fire from passing him. Ducking behind a vent, he pulled the holoprojector from his belt while his partner kept him covered.    
  
"Jakar," he began, "Jenisa and I are on our way to you. This place is too hot to land, so we had to jump. We have supplies. Gonna see if we can get some CorSec reinforcements to you as well."    
  
"We'd appreciate it. You'll be pleased to know that your father and grandfather are both alive. They made it out safe, Cantarus didn't even have to ask them to fight."   
  
"Thanks, Master." He nodded as the link cut. Closing his eyes, the young Knight focused on the transmitter tower on the roof of the building, and a lance of electrical energy burst from his fingers, shorting out the tower. Jenisa turned to stare at him but quickly understood. If they got the survivors out of here, the Imperials wouldn't be able to use the signal as a trap any longer. "Shall we?" His smirk was grim, but the Jedi had to believe that there was hope they could pull this off.    
  
"Let's." Her tone was as soft as ever, as though they were once again relaxing in Axial Park after a long day of training. Gathering the Force around them, the Shadows cloaked themselves, making it a simple task to approach the nearest Imperial position. They knew from experience that the rest would come running the moment that their weapons came to life, but that wouldn't be enough to save them.    
  
Thousands of hours of training had left their patterns as ingrained as instinct, the pair splitting around the Imperial cover line with practiced ease. Tiran allowed the cloak to fall away from himself first. His twin blue blades came to life with a familiar snap-hiss as he channeled the Force in a bright flare of energy across his blades, the spin of his weapon flinging the attack at the nearest Imperial. Before the attack had even landed, he was on the move once more, plasma burning through the heavy cannon of the nearest trooper, who did - to his credit - leap back and draw a vibroblade in an attempt to defend himself. Tiran deflected the overhead strike with the front of his saberstaff, twisting rapidly to turn his defense into a strike that bisected the Imperial.   
  
He danced around the remaining invaders as the second and third squads noticed the commotion, though Jenisa thwarted their attempts to stop him as she dropped her cloak, her silver-green blades reflecting the Imperial fire. A gleam caught Tiran's eye as his senses flared, and he lashed out with the Force as a stealthed Imperial attempted to stab Jenisa in the back. The blow hit the scout hard, slamming him into a portable cover shield with enough speed to send him tumbling back into the Imperial line. A simple nod was all that it took, their bond expressing everything that needed to be said. They darted forward into the thick of the action once more, blades flashing before they hissed out of existence, gathering weapons before they cloaked once more, heading down into the building itself.    
  
The CorSec station they'd infiltrated soon became an Imperial tomb. Their actions were swift and decisive, and as close to the Jedi code as they possibly could be. As they released the CorSec prisoners, a number of them set to work hardening their communications, pulling what intel they could from the local systems before purging the access codes. They defended their comrades, attacking any Imperial foolish enough to interrupt them with a vengeance.    
  
As much as they would've preferred to hold the station, they knew that the Imperials had the numbers and materiel to overrun them without an excessive amount of trouble. "I'm Kiran Antilles, in charge of what's left of this station. What's the plan, Master Jedi?"    
  
"I'm Tiran, and this is Jenisa. -"    
  
"Tiran Wessiri?" The officer interrupted. "Kamran's grandkid?"    
  
A chuckle passed Jenisa's lips as Tiran scowled slightly. "That's me." He held up a hand to indicate that his family history wasn't up for discussion, and the assembled officers lapsed into silence. His grandfather's name carried weight with these people, apparently, though as a respected CorSec captain, it wasn't something that should've surprised the young Jedi. "We're going to be joining up with Master Forseti and the others in Sector Twelve. It's overrun, and he's pinned down while one of his squad is trapped in an escape pod carrying vital intel on the Imperials' attack plans."    
  
"So we're rescuing one guy while our city burns?" A call from near the back of the assembled officers caused Tiran's fists to clench.    
  
"You get to kill a bunch of Imperials and get intel that might well be the key to us taking back our home.” He strode through the group until he was only inches from the speaker. "Besides," he all but hissed, "If we'd taken your attitude, you would still be rotting in your own cells. We’ll rendezvous with Cantarus once the intel is secure, to plan the next step." 

 

He turned away, heading towards the main doors, snatching a rifle from the rack at the front desk, shouldering it and firing a burst into an Imperial probe that floated into the entrance. Jenisa placed a calming hand on his shoulder as he lowered the weapon. 

 

“Grab your gear," Tiran growled. "We’re moving out.”    
  



End file.
